


Escaping Reality

by junipersand



Series: Twitter AU [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, and has to find his way home, bad is oblivious, god didnt prepare him to be stabbed, if he can stop staring at bbh for one second, skeppy gets isekaied, skeppy is having so many panics gay and life threatening both, so damn oblivious, spin off of "twitter disaster"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junipersand/pseuds/junipersand
Summary: After boarding a plane to meet up with his boyfriend, the plane crashes and Skeppy is sent to a world with adventure, heroes and demons?! With a partner that looks exactly like his best friend, Skeppy has to defeat five demons in order to return to his world, but a voice in his head tells him to stay...?Read on as Skeppy gets closer to finding his way home to his boyfriend! Can he survive in a world of magic, monsters and sorcerers, especially with his growing crush over his best friend's clone?Original Work.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Series: Twitter AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091879
Comments: 20
Kudos: 104





	1. This can't be happening! Getting isekaied to another world?!

**Author's Note:**

> I've read too many isekai manga to not write that summary. I want to choke myself with my laptop charger.

Skeppy hadn’t expected his day to start off with a bang.

You might be thinking: oh, Skeppy, you’re so cheesy! Using that line every youtuber has used for the past decade. How quirky! How literate of you! The 14 year olds are crying while hugging their pillows after Skeppy called Bad cute.

No. That’s not the case. His day _literally_ started with a bang. As of now, he’s sprinting through the forest, running from a monster that defied the laws of Biology and Physics. Isaac Newton would be rolling in his grave, because that _thing_ ran as if gravity didn’t affect it.

His lungs burned as he tried to get air. His legs started to grow numb and his soles began to ache. The floor trembled and trees shook as if an earthquake were passing through the forest, leaves falling like it was Autumn and unnatural birds flew from their nests.

Around him, critters scurried about, producing sounds that he didn’t know were possible. He may not be the most knowledgeable person on the planet, but he’s fairly certain a squirrel doesn’t bark. He put this behind his mind as his body focused on survival, his instincts bringing him to run.

Adrenaline roared in his blood. He could hear his own heart pumping faster than it ever had before. His mind couldn’t formulate any thoughts, his only intention was to _survive_.

Why? Why was this happening to him?!

A deafening roar bellowed, shaking the ground and throwing him off balance. Yelping out of surprise, he prepared himself for the brace of impact, eyes widening as a bottomless cliff revealed itself beyond the bushes.

Skeppy screamed, feeling his body lurch forward to air—

Only for a hand to grab onto his hoodie, his feet scraping pebbles off the edge of the cliff. His mind drew blanks as the same hand pulled him back to solid ground, rather than his body falling and cutting through wind.

“Stay close to me!” a familiar voice called.

Skeppy whipped around, snapping out of his stupor for the sense of familiarity. There, standing by him (shorter, definitely) was a man clad in black and red, a bow pulled back and a golden arrow glimmering in his fingers.

“Bad?” Skeppy demanded.

The man didn’t turn to him. Instead, his eyes were squinted, focused on the monster that was out for their blood. With fluid adjustments and practiced movements, “Bad” released a soothing breath, before releasing the projectile with unrivalled precision.

The golden arrow flew in the air, glowing like a shooting star in the darkest of nights. Its light reflected amongst the falling leaves and muddy puddles, like a spark of hope in their time of need. As if in slow motion and fate’s interference, the arrow’s tip brightened to white, and it pierced through the monster’s forehead and through its body.

Blood sprouted from the wound, and the monster fell dead. Its body collapsed, but its corpse continued to drag forward, still driven from its momentum, heading straight towards them. Skeppy whipped towards the large shape and the cliff behind them, debating whether to grab the stranger and make a break towards safety, but the man didn’t move. He’d lowered his arms and held the bow with a hand, but he made no further move to stop their potential death.

Skeppy’s eyes widened as the monster’s corpse was only a few feet from them, the friction it caused creating a trail of destruction in its path, tearing down trees and ploughing the ground. The man raised an empty palm.

In his calculations, the monster’s body stopped moving just as its bloody hide reached his palm, leaving the two men only a few inches of grace before they were pushed towards their death.

The man’s shoulders slackened and he sighed, turning to Skeppy with a look crossed between frustration and concern. It was then that Skeppy realized how much he resembled his best friend—caramel hair, emerald eyes, pale skin and cherry lips (that were _so_ cute)—where he even got his choice of clothing down to a T.

“Are you lost?” “Bad” asked, giving him a hand. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Skeppy stared at his gloved hand. It reminded him of his Minecraft skin, but only more practical and realistic. “Uh,” he stammered, taking his hand. “Okay?” He didn’t even know how he got here. Heck, he didn’t even know where he was. The first moment he was boarding the plane, then—

 _Then what happened?_ He can’t remember. He was on the plane to go somewhere. But where?

“Come on.” The man pulled him up. He sounded uncannily like Bad, minus the clothes and bow. Why did he carry a bow? “Let’s get you out of here.”

Skeppy didn’t see any other options, so he opted to follow this Bad lookalike before deciding what to do next. Something about this doppelganger tells him that he’s not where he was supposed to be. People don’t just carry around weapons and shoot lights at monsters.

He turned to the monster’s corpse, but couldn’t tell what it was. Its fur was dirty silver and its large tusks brownish yellow, now matted with blood as maggot-like creatures have infested on them like months to a flame. It resembled an oversized boar with the body of a snake instead of hooves, yet still covered in fur, not scales. Skeppy shuddered. It wasn’t a pretty death.

“Hey,” Skeppy asked, trying to catch up to the Bad lookalike. He walked faster than how any normal being should, and Skeppy found himself jogging briefly just to keep up with his pace.

The man turned to him, slowing down just enough for Skeppy to powerwalk next to him. “Yes?”

Skeppy regarded the corpse warily. “What was that?” he asked. “Is it normal for… that to chase people?”

“Bad” looked back to the monster and back to Skeppy, as if the tanned man was the one delusional. “No,” he said finally, after a cutting silence. “Snoars are hostile only to moving targets. You shouldn’t have ran back there—it detects prey using sound and movement.”

Oh. That was good to know. That explained the sunken holes in skulls where the eyes should be.

“Besides,” he continued, “you shouldn’t have come here. It’s only open to Heroes. You’re lucky I found you instead of any other hero.”

Heroes? What the hell? Skeppy swore he didn’t hear him wrong.

“Wait!” Skeppy threw himself in front of “Bad”, stretching his hands out to stop him. “Bad” raised an eyebrow, but stopped. “Where am I? What is this place? Who are you, and why do you look like my friend? I’m not supposed to be here!”

He’s supposed to be somewhere. Anywhere but here!

“Bad”’s face was riddled with concern instead of confusion. “Did you happen to consume any Crimson shrooms?” he asked. “They’re quite common in these parts. Here, I have an antidote.” He produced a vial of glowing liquid in his hand, the item manifesting from thin air. Now Skeppy swears he’s seeing things.

“I didn’t eat anything,” Skeppy said patiently.

“Oh.” The potion changed to a loaf of bread. “Then you must be famished.”

“I’m not!” Skeppy snapped. “Listen, okay? I was on a plane going somewhere, but I don’t know what happened and I ended up here. First, can you tell me your name and why you look exactly like a high-budget, realistic cosplay of my best friend?”

Now “Bad” looked positively worried. He put a hand to Skeppy’s face to check whether if he had a fever. Up close, Skeppy felt his face burning, and the heat spreading towards his neck. Shit, Bad without glasses was kind of cute, but he’s not here to get a crush!

“You’re burning up,” he noticed. “Here, I have medici—”

“I’M FINE,” Skeppy insisted, pushing “Bad” away. “Just—” He took a deep breath, covering his face. “Just tell me your name and where I am. I need to know what’s going _on_.”

“Bad” tilted his head. “If that makes you feel better,” he agreed. “My name’s Halo, and you’re in the Beginner’s Forest. You almost died to a snoar, and you should really look where you’re going.”

Skeppy stared at him. That explained nothing. At least he knew his name. He was getting somewhere for once.

“Okay, _Halo_.” Skeppy emphasized his name. “Tell me more about these ‘Heroes.’”

Halo frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t,” he said. “It’s confidential information. Are you _sure_ you haven’t eaten anything strange?”

Skeppy wanted to wake up from this nightmare of a dream. He pinched his forearm. He felt the pain, but he wasn’t waking up. He touched Halo’s shoulder, and he felt _real_.

… this cannot be happening.


	2. Who needs clothes when you're developing a crush on your best friend's doppelganger?

For all Skeppy knew, he could be hallucinating. He could still be in his bed, dreaming up all of these bizarre happenings. He would consider himself a creative person, but there was no way in hell he was able to conjure up all of this with information as detailed as this. As far as dreams go, you weren’t supposed to touch anything nor remain asleep after narrowly escaping death.

He followed Not-Bad outside the woods (after hours of walking that was worth years of his exercise routine) on a path that was obviously _not_ safe. There wasn’t a paved road to begin with. It was a hike through the trees, with branches that lashed around his arms and vines that whispered lies. Every time he got himself into danger, it was Halo who bailed him out. By the time they were out, Skeppy was surprised that Halo hadn’t left him to die halfway through.

Skeppy wiped sweat off his forehead with his hoodie sleeve, panting hard and deep. He should not be wearing this hoodie while he was travelling through exotic biomes. He was sure that there was still something wriggling in his clothes, but he was too tired to care.

They arrived at a quaint village, and Skeppy’s eyes widened at the scene. It was exactly how he would imagine a medieval middle-class village to look like. Houses made of cobble and paths paved for horses, chimneys that emitted smoke and fires burning out in the open. Many stalls were laid out in the village from the entrance to the center, but towards the end seemed to be strictly for housing.

Halo pointed to the village. “Is this where you came from?” he asked with a head covered in leaves.

Skeppy shook his head. “I already told you where I came from!” he argued. “I was on a plane, then I woke up here—”

“A plane? I assume it’s something that flies in the air, correct?” Skeppy nodded vigorously. Does Halo know about it? “The only things that can fly are the airships from the country Hypixel. Are you from there?”

 _Hypixel?_ That’s the name of the Minecraft server he played on. Now he was _sure_ he was delusional.

“It’s not an airship,” Skeppy groaned. He didn’t have the energy to argue with Not-Bad. He was just as oblivious as the real deal. “It’s an _airplane_. It’s made of metal and it runs on fuel and it somewhat looks like a giant bird if it lost weight.”

Halo stared at him, his expression torn between bewilderment and concern. He raised a hand, but put it down as the words died on his lips.

“… have you been to the Harrowing Hills?” Halo tried, his voice turning high-pitched as he grew more confused by the second. “You’re not making any sense!”

“ _You’re_ the one that’s not making any sense!” Skeppy exploded. “Look, I’m tired, thirsty, hungry and scared, okay? I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what the fuck happened to me to land me here, and the fact that you look like someone I know doesn’t make it any better! I just want to go home!”

Halo took a step back, his arm raised in self-defense, like Skeppy might strike him. Skeppy snapped out of his blind haze of anger after he finally noticed the fear in Halo’s face. His anger dissipated at once, his heart skipping a beat when he realized he’d lost his temper. He tried to say something, but his face… _oh god_ , his _face_. He never wanted to see him like this. Ever.

Skeppy sighed, shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, trying to salvage the situation. “I lost control of my feelings. I got emotional, stupid—please, don’t be angry at me.”

He didn’t know what he’ll do if he sees that face glaring at him. He could handle haters – people hating on his name for no reason, but this was the only face he didn’t want to see hatred. Hatred towards him.

Halo nodded, calming down. He loosened his position, but his guard was still on. It was always there since they’ve met. “Don’t worry.” He gave him a faint smile. “You have your own troubles. I’m sorry for trying to undermine your feelings.”

 _They’re so alike_. The way they talk, the way they smile and the way they apologize—it was similar down to a tee. It was scary; to know that there was a doppelganger of Bad out here. Would he be able to tell apart between the two of them? He hoped he could…

“It’s getting dark,” Halo mentioned, looking up. For a split second, his neck was exposed from his scarf, revealing obsidian black, mauled scars underneath. Skeppy’s breath lodged in his throat, his body tensing. He wasn’t sure if he saw that right. He broke out of his trance once the brunet turned to him. “Do you want to share an inn together?”

They booked an inn in the townsquare. From the brief conversation with the inn’s owner, Skeppy now knew this town was named Woollen, a small place in the country. It was a frequent for Heroes and their companions alike, so there were many stalls and merchants specifically targeting those groups. Heroes and their teams outnumbered tourists year-round.

One look around the inn’s tavern and Skeppy could tell they were making a killing. Despite his exhaustion, he saw most of the guests having weapons strapped to their bodies. Swords, axes, maces, shields; you name it, they have it. They walked past the tavern and headed straight up to their room, walking past other people chatting in the hallway. Fortunately, they didn’t attract much attention, despite Skeppy’s unusual bright clothing diverging him from the other customers.

In the room, Halo breathed a sigh of relief as he sat on one of the beds. Skeppy’s bed was beside him, with a window built onto the wall between them. Skeppy closed the door, hoping that he could work the lock and not trap them both inside.

“Not a fan of crowds?” Skeppy asked, noting Halo’s withdrawn self. He gave him a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. Neither am I.”

Halo chuckled, getting to his feet and unlatching the bow on his shoulder. He had a bow but not a quiver, yet Skeppy remembered him shooting one earlier. Maybe he lost it. He hung the bow by his bedside, then continued to sit down, his eyes shamelessly staying on Skeppy.

Skeppy scratched his head stiffly, not used to being watched so directly. “You don’t like talking?”

Halo shook his head. “Not really,” he agreed. “I’m usually alone in my travels. I don’t know how to start conversations.”

Skeppy sat on his bed and across Halo. “Really? Won’t you get lonely out in the wilderness?”

“Sometimes.” Halo put his hands on his lap. “But I manage. How are you, by the way? You haven’t eaten anything the entire day. We should have stopped and eaten something, but I insisted that we kept going. I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t be. You were right to keep walking.” Skeppy raised his hands. “Any later and we wouldn’t have made it here before nightfall. I’m fine, really.”

“You should shower.” Halo ignored him. “Then we can eat at the tavern.”

“But—”

“It closes once the moon hits the hourglass.” Halo turned hard of hearing. “We should hurry.”

Skeppy groaned, barely bothering to hide his irritation. Weird world or no, doppelganger or not, Bad was Bad wherever the hell he went. He was cute when he was stubborn, but sometimes it urged Skeppy to drive twenty miles over the speed limit. This wasn’t Bad, but Halo had Bad’s face, body and voice, and it warranted nothing but frustration from Skeppy’s gut.

Halo collapsed face-first on his bed, putting his pillow over his head. He laid there like a dead fish, humming from his throat and nose. Skeppy decided not to question and opened the door to what appeared to be the bathroom.

That was how Skeppy found himself sitting in a wooden tub, the water miraculously warm despite having no electricity. When he’d entered the room, the tub immediately filled itself up with warm water, and a set of towels arranged themselves on the rack. Everything was either made of wood or stone, but there was something more to it than simple polish.

He sat naked in the tub, hugging his knees with his hair sticking to his face. The water reached up to his shoulders, enveloping him in a warm fog. There wasn’t any soaps for him to use, but instead there was a wooden jar of a concoction made of crushed herbs, ash and animal fat. He tried some of it, and apart from the odd smell and feel, it acted like how a soap would; just more primitive and crude.

As a substitute for brushing teeth, there was a jar of mint by the bath. He chewed it after he cleaned his teeth with his fingers, while washing his hair. He hoped that dental care existed in this world and they had better dentists with health insurance.

“Oh!” Halo greeted him after he emerged from the shower, dripping wet and a towel strapped around his waist. Halo was messing with his bow, pulling at the string and embedding gemstones on the tips. “You’re done!” He tilted his head at his nakedness. “Where are your clothes?”

Skeppy’s face dusted pink when Halo stared at him without so much as batting an eyelid. “My clothes aren’t dry,” he confessed, pointing to the inside of the bathroom. The tub drained itself straight after he stepped outside. “Do you have any spare?”

“Dry? Did you fall into the bath with them on?”

“No. I washed them.”

“Why?”

“Wha— _why_? Because they were covered in dirt and anything yucky known to mankind. There was even a leech-thing in there!”

Halo got to his feet and headed towards the bathroom, walking past Skeppy and taking his clothes off a hanger. They were dripping wet and obviously still stained, but it was the best Skeppy could do with limited materials and options.

“Hm,” Halo hummed, running his fingers on the hoodie and jeans. “What is this _made_ of?” He frowned, pouting. “I don’t recognize it.”

Skeppy tried to cover himself up with another towel. He was failing. “Cotton. And denim, I think.”

“I don’t know what those are.” He squinted at his clothes, bringing the fabric close to his face. “By the Holy Ones, this _craftsmanship_ …” He whipped to Skeppy excitedly, like a puppy violently wagging its tail. “Are you by any chance a master tailor?! This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before! You—this clothing – it’s truly exquisite! The details, the mobility, the use for both warm and cold environments, the lightness! All of this is simply perfect!” He started to mumble to himself, his hands glowing with red aura. “If I can combine this with some enchantments, then this will become something that mankind has never seen before!”

Skeppy stood by the door, dumbstruck. This was definitely Bad, alright. Bad was usually quiet and reserved when people were talking about their interests, expressing his curiosity towards them and just being so damn polite and too good for this world; but when it came to his own hobbies, the floodgates open and he just _won’t stop talking about said hobby_. Not that Skeppy minded. It was endearing when Bad goes thirty miles off topic talking about baking and drawing, especially when Skeppy screwed up and was trying to worm his way out of an earful. When Bad realized he’d missed the mark completely, he would scream, _“Skeppy!”_ but could never relight his anger. The arguments simply ended with huffs and a shit ton of giggles.

But now, Skeppy was not keen on getting his clothes enchanted. He did not want fourteen million bugs coming after him because his clothes secreted mating pheromones. He intervened Halo’s rambling and snatched his clothes back. Halo finally shut up, blinking at air.

“Oh,” Halo said nonchalantly, as if he weren’t just chanting a spell. “That tunic… it was finely made. But—where’s the soul? Where’s the heart?” He took a depressing turn. “How could something be so detailed yet so— _so_ void of love?”

“Dude,” Skeppy blurted. He should be used to this by now, but he wasn’t. Even if this was full of magic and spells and curses or whatever. The next thing he knew, the toilet seats he wanted to sit on are instantly warmed to the perfect butt resting temperature. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Halo blushed. Crimson spread from his cheeks towards the tips of his ears. “Sorry,” he said in a meek voice. “I get a tad bit excited when I see handmade things.”

Skeppy wrung more water from his hoodie. “You don’t say?” He didn’t have the heart to tell Halo that his clothes were not handmade. They were produced in a factory that got their materials from animal slavery and made by a fuck ton of minimum wage ~~slaves~~ workers. “ _Any_ handmade trinkets? Do DIYs and IKEA furniture count?”

Confusion etched onto his face when Skeppy brought up brand names. They were considered inside jokes now, as Halo didn’t know what they meant. That royally sucked.

“It—it’s just—” Halo took in a deep breath, brushing his bangs from his face with a dreamy smile, “—when someone _makes_ something, they put their heart and love into it. They make it because they want it to exist. Anything can be turned into something beautiful, like the vines in the forest can be dried and weaved into picnic baskets adorned with flowers for sons to carry. Straw can be strung into hats and sandals for a farmer when they’re ploughing fields in the hot sun with their bullions1.”

Skeppy didn’t expect that answer. It was as if the angels themselves have blessed him with a heavenly glow, embracing him in a warm light when he spoke about deep philosophical thoughts that Skeppy could never hope to understand. Skeppy caught himself staring and pinched his own hand. He’s not here to develop a crush.

“Not many wants to make,” Halo continued, wistful. “But many wants death and destruction.”

By god, was he beautiful. Halo looked like a goddess looking over her children, blessing them and patting their heads as she praised them for their good deeds. The goddess was forlorn that her children have learned to tear up the gardens that she planted, but could do nothing to rectify their behaviors.

His boyfriend was going to be _so_ disappointed in him when he gets back.

 _If_ he gets back.

“Shall we go downstairs?” Halo asked.

“My clothes…”

“Oh, I forgot about those.”

“I am literally naked and in front of you.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“What, you enjoy the view?”

“View? Our room is nice, but what else is there to see?”

“… nevermind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A bullion in this world is a combination of a lion and a bull. They have a lion's mane that could range from brown to gold. There's also a ring of fur above their hooves. The more golden it is, the stronger they are and the longer they live. Only used in farming markets, and most golden bullions have a defect due to inbreeding. Back.


End file.
